


There’s No Room to Accept Death

by RougueShadowWolf



Series: 15 Minutes [214]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crazy Peter Hale, Dead Stiles Stilinski, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mad Scientists, Mad Scientists Peter Hale, Rich Peter Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 10:44:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20674100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: Life was nothing without his beautiful lover, and so Peter decided he’d have him back. One way or another, Peter would have Stiles back.





	There’s No Room to Accept Death

**Author's Note:**

> So, what was your plan? Was it to just walk on in here, and see what happens? Because that’s seriously normal in these parts, now if you’d teleported or something like that, now then I’d be super impressed and slightly freaked. 
> 
> Now, to all who are used to this series, you should just hop and skip your way over to A SLIGHT CHANGE and leave me here to explain what this series is to everyone who is knew to this madness. Now everyone who is knew to this series of mine, please be aware that every fic is written in 15Minutes and so these stories aren’t works of art. There will be a hell of a lot of bad grammar to find here, bad storytelling, horrific typos and probably not a satisfying ending since I’m pretty much writing in a state of panic. If you can’t handle bad writing, then you should leave now and not be tortured, now if you can handle all the things that I’ve warned you about please follow me to A SLIGHT CHANGE. 
> 
> A SLIGHT CHANGE is simply the addition of a theme such as Love in this fic, now not to worry BrittleDragonBones still had the power to request for a few things in her stories, and what she wanted was a Steter fic where Peter is this rich bastard that refuses to accept that he’s lost Stiles, and makes some unethical decisions to get Stiles back. The thing I wrote really wasn’t what she was expecting, and frankly I’m not sure what happened.

He’s nervous, but it’s the sort of nervous excitement that was good. His mouth feels dry. His heart is racing as if he’s been out running his frustration or anger away, but he hasn’t been out running for weeks. Peter is far from angry or frustrated at the moment, there's a degree of giddy excitement fluttering and bursting inside of him that continues to make him grin like an idiot from time to time.

The little velvet box that held the ring he’d designed for his partner, feels heavy where it sits in the pocket of his jacket. It's been a pain to try and hide this little box form his lover, his boyfriend, since Stiles knew he was hiding something, and of course Stiles had figured out it wasn't anything bad but something closer to a gift. 

Glancing over at his boyfriend who was talking a mile a minute about his latest idea, Peter can’t help but think himself blessed to have found his love and partner in the person fates had picked as his college roommate. He was lucky to have found someone who loved him with all his faults, someone who understood him without feeling any resentment about his drive to be successful and powerful.

Peter was most fortunate to have found someone who kept him human, he was blessed to have found someone who wasn't repulsed by the none human side of him.

Reaching out to take his lovers hand, bringing it up to his lips, Peter kisses the back of the fine and skilful hand of his lover, silencing his beautiful partner who blushes beautifully even now after seven-years together, six-years of daily kisses and soft touches and whispered words of love.

He sees the beautiful mouth open, ready to speak again, but before Stiles has a chance to speak their driver shouts something in alarm, and then there’s the terrible sense of something large and heavy, fast and solid impacting their car. Peter’s hand tightens its old of the hand it holds, and Peter moves to try and cover his Lovers body even while too dazed to really know what to do.

The loud sound of bending and breaking material that would not yield easily, the sound erupts within the small space of the town car, the noise of metal bending and breaking, glass shattering, but the absolute worst sound was hearing the delicate bones of his beloved snap and break. Peter thinks briefly before another unpleasant impact strikes the car that it’s been rolling ones or twice, the second hit he knows hits the side of the car his lover is situated in and he cokes out the name of the man he loves before unconsciousness takes him away.

**~*~**

Feeling the weight of the day on his whole person, Peter Hale walked into the gently lit room that very few souls had known about, and those people were now all gone and forever silent, Peter had to take drastic actions to ensure his secret project remained a secret after all. He’d spent billions of dollars on creating this safe and secure place, a space he began building only days after his sorrow nearly broke him beyond repair, and for the past ten-years he’d spent at least trillions of his hard earned fortune; not that he’d stopped keeping amount on the money he sank into this project ones it reached the trillions, there was no price he wouldn’t pay to see his project succeed.

Regardless of how many times Peter entered the small room he knew better than he did the back of his hand, a lump still formed itself in his throat as the lights and screens flicker into life, the hum of all the various machines familiar to his ears, just by the sounds around him Peter could tell if something would need repairs long before an issue rose.

There’s was always a moment of unease within him when he entered his secret lab, there had been too many times his security measures had failed to inform him of something, and thus causing him to walk into his laboratory and find that there were no more signs of life. So, yes, Peter was always a little bit anxious as he entered the lab, even now after he’d ran several test-runs to make sure he would receive an alert immediately if there was even the slightest bit of a change in any of the incubators.

His heart stutters as he continues deeper into the room, avoiding for the moment from looking at the larges incubator which sat in the middle of the room, there were of course several smaller ones, some holding the spare-parts Peter might need if something went wrong; Peter wasn’t talking any risk.

What he was doing wasn’t legal, it was no-where near legal, but Peter didn’t care.

All Peter cared about was himself, and bringing back that which he had lost, and if anyone were to try and stop him, well, he’d just destroy them and everyone they loved.

Breathing in a slow and steady breath Peter moves to grab the slightly battered-up and out-of-date Invision from its holder, the fish-finger shaped and sized piece of electronic wonder that his roommate had started working on back in college took its sweet-time starting-up these days, but Peter just didn’t have a hart upgrading it with a newer-model since they weren’t designed by his beloved.

There was a soft sort of vibration coming off of the Invision, and there were several soft clicks and even a tiny hiss before the blue line of light flickered into life, and soon the now slightly static blue holographic-screen appeared and the familiar voice of his Lover spoke.

`_Shouldn’t you be in bed, with someone?_ ´ the rather cheeky voice said, bringing a small smile on Peter’s face even while his heart ached, then an old picture Peter had taken of Stiles’ sleeping in what had been their bed flickered onto the screen, `_Wouldn’t you rather be cuddling-up next to this handsome fella? ´_

`Anything I should be worried about? ´ Peter asks the Invision causing the image of Stiles sleeping fading away, one he’d captured after a weekend spent in bed, celebrating privately the success of Invision, or as it was now referred to as Invision One by many.

`_No, sir_. ´ Stiles’ voice responds then, all serious and professional, and slowly began to give Peter the very detailed report, numbers and words, scales and prognosis appearing as the Invision informed him of everything going on in the lab and with the project.

Peter looked through the latest scans, pleased with the continued growth of brain activity, from what he could tell the heart was showing no signs of failure, the oxygen input remained steady and unchanging now for two months-straight, there were no signs of fluid build-up in the lunges or around the heart, there were no signs of kidney or liver failure. The blood and urine samples from earlier that day appeared clean, there was still Peter noted however he would have to adjust the amount of nutrients he’d been supplying four-times a day, the weight-gain Peter had been hoping for wasn’t happening, instead the body continued to lose the little weight it had managed to gain during their last adjustment; Peter wouldn’t would have to start making a few extra trips to the lab, and that was fine, he’d do anything to ensure that this time his project would be a success.

`Anything new to report? ´ Peter asks, going back to the brain scans from the morning as well as those from the past few days.

_`There has been some muscle-memory movements detected_. ´

Peter can’t help but raise an eyebrow at this while heading towards the large incubator, all the while careful not to step on all the wires and tubes on the floor that ran from a handful of machines up to the glass-coffin-like item, he checks to see the reports on this matter.

`Such as? ´ Peter enquires, while already reading the information.

`_Mostly, movements of fingers._ ´

`Why muscle memory? ´ Peter enquires, genuinely curious since it wasn’t uncommon these days for various different muscles to twitch from time-to-time.

Almost immediately the large holographic screen near the incubators flickers into life, then four clips of similar hands appear side-by-side, those on the upper and lower left-side are of the hands resting against the pale material of the bedding in the incubator, the hands on the right-side are the familiar hands of Stiles playing the piano that had sat now for years untouched.

Peter feels his heart stutter as the music of Stiles’ had often absentmindedly played while trying to figure out the ins and outs of his latest idea, and Peter becomes easily enough convinced that yes, there was some muscle memory at play.

`This is new. ´ Peter whispers, excitement now blooming inside his chest.

`Anything else? ´ Peter asks, after replaying the clips twice more.

`_There has been an increase in facial movements, and since two-hours and fifteen-minutes, there have been attempts at speech. ´ _

`Really? ´ Peter immediately asks, feeling suddenly overwhelmed with hope.

`_Would you wish to hear it, sir?_ ´

`You recorded it? ´ Peter enquires, surprised but none the less glad.

`_Yes._ ´ is the simple response, `_shall I unlock the voice-recording,_ sir? ´

`Yes, please. ´ Peter whispers while turning his gaze down at the young man in the incubator Peter had built for him.

There are incoherent sounds, nothing really that one would consider to be anything other grunts, gasps, breaths, and then Peter hears something that has him immediately rewinding and increasing the volume, something he does over and over again, until finally he hears the whispered word of, `Dad. ´

Peter’s knees go weak, and once he hears it repeated this time in the shape of a question, he nearly cries because this was progress.

It stings a little that Stiles didn’t say his name, but still, Peter is overjoyed to find that there was hope that he’d succeeded with something that shouldn’t be possible. Listening to Stiles repeat the word dad a couple more times, each time it sounds more and more like he’d been calling for his dad, Peter can’t help but enquire, `Have we been downloading memories of Noah Stilinski? ´

There’s a pause before he is given an answer.

_`There are no files under the name of Noah Stilinski, sir. Is there an error in my…´_

`No. No, your fine. ´ responds immediately, the last thing he wanted was for the Invision to have a meltdown and start re-examining itself in-hopes of finding flaws that weren’t there.

Still, there was still the question of why Stiles was calling out for his father.

Looking down at the familiar and beautiful face of the one he could never let go, Peter can’t help but whisper, `Looking good my love. ´

When he’d lost Stiles his world had crumbled, and it had haunted Peter that he’d lost him because of a drunk-drive behind the wheel of a truck, the cruel twist of fate had been that the driver had been employed by their company to deliver Stiles’ the high-tech incubators for NICU wards, incubators that Stiles had pretty much forced Peter to donate for free to every hospital around the world.

`_Imagine if there hadn’t been a well-equipped NICU ward where I was born, Peter._ ´ Stiles had said during their argument over Stiles’ demand that Peter just gift Stiles’ latest invention for free to hospitals, _`I wouldn’t be here with you today._ ´ and yeah, once Stiles had drilled in the fact that he might’ve never made it, that Peter might’ve never had a chance to find the man he loved, that sealed the deal of being charitable.

`Almost there, my love. ´ Peter tells the young man that had begun to show brain activity of late that suggested he could hear Peter, and if Stiles could hear him then Peter would speak only sweet words of encouragement and love to him.

Peter can hardly wait for the day that he could detach Stiles, or his re-creation of Stiles, from the incubator and take him home. He’d learned from his past mistakes that recovering some of Stiles’ memories, had to be done slowly unless he wanted to accidentally fry the brain again, he could easily replace a heart and even a lunge, but when the brain-broke then he had to start all over again.

He’d had get rid of six fully-formed bodies of Stiles, each experienced burned into Peter’s memory, twice do to pushing Stiles’ brain too far with how quickly Peter could plant memories and information into the brain. He’d had to dispose of two bodies due to the machines supplying the bodies with oxygen malfunctioning, he’d lost too many to count due to organ failures.

Peter would take things slow and easy with this one, he would not take any unnecessary risks with bring his Stiles back.

It had been years, _years_, since he’d held his lover in his arms while the warmth of life could be felt on the pale skin that never could get a proper tan. It had been too long since Peter had seen those beautiful brown eyes look at him with life in them, or heard that wonderful voice of his beloved, it felt forever since he’d heard the precious sound of Stiles’ laughter.

Too long had it been since Peter had been blessed to suffer the sweet pleasure that was hearing the beautiful moans and whimpers his lover, certainly he had enough documented material of his lover moaning out his name between please, but that simply wasn’t enough; Peter yearned to play Stiles body like a fine instrument, pulling out sounds out from his lover that no other man alive had been allowed to hear.

Peter was starving for it all this silent torment to be over, for his loneliness to end. Peter wanted the vibrant life, the energy, the joy his lover had brought him back. He even wanted the vicious arguments, and the angry sex that followed after each disagreement big or small, and then the later tender love-making once tempers had dwindled. Peter wanted the quiet moments they shared, the peace of simply watching some movie, show or play with Stiles, bodies close or just hands entwined. He craved to wake-up next to the man he loved, yearend to cook for the man he loved the most, and dear heavens how he wished to once more spoil Stiles with gifts that would bring a fond smile on Stiles’ lips.

He wanted to give Stiles all the things he’d failed to do before the accident, before Noah Stilinski without an input from Peter decided to end Stiles’ life-support, he wanted to buy a house Stiles wanted, to get the dog Stiles would want, even a cat if that was what Stiles wanted. Peter wanted to right all the wrongs he’d made while too focused on being a success.

Standing there by the large incubator, as he so often does instead of going straight home from work, Peter watches over his still unconscious lover. Every little twitch of a finger, every slight movement of the lips, gives him hope that soon his beloved would join him in life once more. 


End file.
